


Synthetic love

by Icie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Mind Control, Other, POV Second Person, Prelude to vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 09:54:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13338765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icie/pseuds/Icie
Summary: They told you dragons were dangerous, but you ended up where you did anyway.





	Synthetic love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CariadWinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CariadWinter/gifts).



> Happy chocolate box! I know this is rather different than what you requested but I hope you will enjoy it anyway!

Synth yawns at the rain, and then tucks their snout into the coil of their body, so they take up as little room as possible within the cave. They always manage to achieve a level of elegance which you envy, and naturally they know that.

"My dear, you are thinking much too hard," Synth says into your mind.

You run your fingers along their scales, their cool skin soft and smooth. You place a kiss to it, and feel a pleased ripple from Synth's mind. "I can't help it," you say. "You inspire poetry."

Synth chuckles — non-verbally. You don't think they will be moving a single muscle of their physical form until the rain clears. "I will eat you, one day."

"You will," you agree, resting your cheek against their side. "And then I'll be a part of you." You don't tell them how happy thinking about that day makes you, but you imagine they know from your smile against their skin.

"Such a delightful pet you are," Synth says.

"Partner," you correct, though you're not sure you mind the thought of being a pet when it's Synth who would own you.

"Of course," Synth replies, soothing over your mind with theirs. The mental caress is enough to make the bottom drop out of your stomach and your knees go weak. They're so kind, to give you this feeling. The first time they gave it to you, you'd dropped your sword. Now, you don't know why you had one in the first place. "Sleep, young partner," they whisper, and you're already dreaming.

*

You're their partner or their pet or something else — you don't care, you don't care, you don't care — until the end. The two of you reach the end of the land and they turn to you, still beautiful and perfect, though you think that years may have passed.

"Is it time?" you ask. 

Synth floods your mind with happiness. You reach to touch their cheek, and smooth it down their scales like you always do. But you gasp as they sink their teeth into your skin instead.

You can't wait to be inside them, you think. They scrape their teeth down, so blood flows from gashes which seem amusing. With a thought, you hold up your free hand, and sit down so you can wrestle off your boots and trousers, though the hand of your bleeding arm doesn't respond as it should. But you do your best, and are soon free of your clothes. 

You lean in, and kiss them. Your own blood coats your lips and your heart sings.

Synth loves you. You know they do.


End file.
